Golden Summer
by DracoLurve
Summary: Prequel to Truths. Harry and Oliver spend a golden afternoon in the sun.
1. Golden Summer

Disclaimer:of course, you all know none of these characters belong to me. If they get into any trouble you can contact the lovely JK Rowling to post bail . . . :)  
  
For Anyone Who Cares: this story is rated R, just to be safe, and is SLASH! Yes, SLASH! If you don't know what SLASH is, you probably should not continue reading until you go find out.  
  
So, this is just sort of a prequel to a series of stories I have planned - please R&R so I know if I should continue with these or not! Thanks  
  
DracoLurve  
  
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It was the kind of summer Harry wished would never end. After being forced upon the Dursleys for less than two weeks, Harry had been invited by Ron to spend the remainder of his summer hols at the Burrow. Harry was ecstatic. Having been there before, he knew it would be great. It was, however, so much more than he ever expected. Harry could think of only one word to describe it - Golden.  
  
The days were filled in liesurely pursuit. Harry was able to spend all the time he wished with some of his very favorite people. He and Ron talked for hours on end. They ate ice cream in the sun and laughed as they tried to keep it from melting all over. They went swimming in the pond nearly every day and basked on the shores in the mid-day sun. They talked late into every night, counting the stars from a blanket in the grass. And, of course, there was the rest of the family. Harry loved them all so much. They talked and laughed and loved without reserve. Harry couldn't ever remember feeling so welcome.  
  
The very best part, to Harry, was to finally be able to fly during a summer holiday. And they *did* fly. Every single day. They flew in the morning when the dew still glistened on the grass. They flew in the deep shaded orchards when the sun was highest. They flew in the balmy evenings, fireflies to light up the approaching twilight. They practiced every sort of quidditch move they could think of, and then they made up some of their own. Then, on the second Tuesday in July, things got even better. Their good friend and former team-mate Oliver showed up to spend some of the summer with them. He brought along a practice set of quidditch balls. Harry was glad, as they had previously been using a half-deflated muggle basketball as a make-shift quaffle. And he wouldn't have to imagine the snitch anymore.  
  
Harry thought mealtimes were the cheeriest times at the Burrow. Although money was tight, it seemed there was always an abundance of food. And laughter. Harry almost always found it to be a happy thing. Cheerful, sometimes - well, always - loud, and rather comforting. There were some days, however, when it was all a little too much for Harry. Today was one of those days. He'd started the day at 4 am with nightmares, reliving his godfather's death again and again. And so the day had progressed. Of course, it wasn't the Weasleys' fault. He hadn't told them of the nightmares. Or the off and on headache he'd been fighting all afternoon. They didn't know. It was no one's fault, really. It was just one of those days.  
  
They had just started an early dinner and the entire family was present. Harry was trying to concentrate on his food, but it wasn't working very well.  
  
"Eat up your peas, Harry dear!"  
  
"Leave him alone, Mum!"  
  
"So I read up on it all I could..."  
  
"And he said, 'Are you really sure...'"  
  
"We thought it was harmless..."  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"Ginny, dear, do stop doing that with your fork!"  
  
"'that's the safest place to hide your wand?'"  
  
"Well, as much as you can read up on 'that' sort of thing."  
  
"How were we to know it would cause his ears to come off?"  
  
"Honestly, Fred, what did you 'really' expect to happen?"  
  
Then, as suddenly as these things tend to happen, it all became too much. The heat in the room turned from comfortable to stifling. The collar on Harry's shirt felt tight and itchy. His palms got sweaty and his temples began to pound. The once enjoyable banter at the table was at once overwhelming. He needed to get out. Making a quiet apology, he left the table and darted out the door. The Weasleys, loving as they were, could sometimes be a touch oblivious to these sort of things. Seeing no one take particular notice, Oliver ducked out as well, and went to find Harry.  
  
Oliver found him quickly, walking through the orchards behind the house. He jogged up behind Harry. Placing a few fintertips on Harry's shoulder and cracking a half-smile, he simply said,   
  
"Hey."  
  
They walked in companionable silence until they reached the edge of the orchards. Leaving the cool shade, Harry waded into waist-high sweet grass that stretched out for several acres.   
  
"I sometimes come out here to get away."  
  
"Aye, they can be a bit much at times, can't they?" Oliver replied.  
  
They waded through the grass for a full two minutes until Harry was satisfied. He threw himself down, flattenng the stems with his body. Oliver did the same, and was surprised to find it strangely comfortable, the tall grass providing an easy cushion. They both lay on their backs with their hands behind their heads, and stared up at the incredible sky, at the clouds rolling softly by. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing the golden, angled rays of late-afternoon sun to warm his body. He focused on the chirping sounds of nearby insects, and on the low aroma of the grasses surrounding him.  
  
"This is nice," said Oliver, in his softly lilting voice. "I come to visit a bit every summer, but I've never been out here."   
  
"So, how's Puddlemere been?" Harry asked, as he continued to bask.  
  
"Oh, it's great," Oliver said in an excited voice. Harry listened as Oliver talked animatedly about his team.  
  
"We all went to your last match, earlier this summer. You were brilliant. I barely recognized you, though," admitted Harry.  
  
"Aye, I don't get to wear the wonderful Gryffindor red any longer."  
  
"It's a shame. You really looked good in red," Harry said. Then, realizing what he'd just said, he quickly changed the subject. "Erm...so...what else have you been up to?"  
  
Oliver let the comment pass and they fell once again into easy conversation, trying to catch up on all that had happened in the previous years. And it was nice. Part-way through their conversation, Harry turned onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow. He watched Oliver while he talked. As Oliver's eyes were still closed, Harry let his vision wander. He studied Oliver's well muscled arms, so tan. The tiny hairs on his bicep glistened in the slanting sun. He studied his hair. It was shorter than Harry's . His gaze fell softly over Oliver's face and dropped to his pink lips, moving as he spoke.  
  
It was one of those immeasurable moments in life where time seems to stand still, yet occupies only a heart-beat's time. In that solitary moment, Harry realized that - somewhere along the way - what he felt for Oliver had turned from like to...lust. Harry's breathing grew shallow and his heartbeat got faster. He couldn't take his eyes off of Oliver's soft lips, couldn't stop watching for Oliver's tongue to peek out from between his teeth as he spoke. He was mesmerized.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Harry."  
  
Harry realized then that Oliver had been trying to ask him a question. Stupidly, he had been fantasizing about Oliver's mouth. Harry felt a deep blush heat his skin. He looked back up into Oliver's eyes.  
  
"What? I'm sorry..."  
  
Oliver looked at Harry very closely. He watched as the red creeped into Harry's cheeks. When Harry's eyes met his, he couldn't miss the lust reflected in their deep green pools. *Surely that blush wasn't for me. I can't believe this handsome creature would look at me like that. It's too good to be true. Really.* But there was no mistaking it. Oliver recognized the signs. Dialated eyes, hitched breathing. Sweet Merlin.  
  
"I asked how you like being the Gryffindor team captain," Oliver repeated.  
  
"Oh. Well, I don't think I'll ever be as good a teacher as you were..."  
  
Oliver decided to be a bit bold. He didn't think Harry would be one to make a first move in this sort of situation. He leaned up on his side, mirroring Harry. The action left their faces only inces apart.  
  
"There's lots of other things I could teach you, Harry," Oliver replied softly, running a finger gently across Harry's arm.  
  
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A/N There's a second part to this, I should have it up in a day or so - come back and read it, it will be Hot Hot HOT!  
  
DracoLurve 


	2. Golden Summer part 2

Golden Summer Part 2  
  
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Harry's eyes widened a little in realization as Oliver's offer was spoken. He found that - while not unpleasant - the tension between them was a little too new to Harry. He couldn't keep his eyes level with Oliver's. His gaze shifted back to Oliver's lips, moist and parted, then he focused on the collar of the boy's shirt. It seemed like a safe place to look, for now.  
  
A silent moment passed. Oliver was just starting to worry that he'd read Harry wrong, had imagined the whole thing, when he heard Harry's soft reply.  
  
"I'd like that a lot," Harry whispered, daring to bring his eyes back up again. Afraid he might soon wake up and find he'd been dreaming, Oliver wasted no time in leaning forward the few inches required. He touched his lips gently to Harry's.  
  
Harry's eyes fluttered closed as he felt Oliver's mouth meet his. Their lips moved softly against one another. Oliver's free hand touched Harry's cheek, slid down, and settled on his neck, the fingertips lost in Harry's hair. He captured Harry's bottom lip in his own and slowly tasted it with his tongue. Harry answered the silent question by parting his lips slightly in invitation. He felt Oliver's tongue slip into his mouth and quickly met it with his own...and they were lost in the moment. Warm tongue sliding sensually against warm tongue. Tasting...Sucking...Coaxing...Lips pleading in an unspoken language.  
  
Oliver guided Harry back to the ground and settled his own body along Harry's, not breaking their delicious kiss. Their legs tangled and Oliver slowly but carefully pressed his body into Harry's. Oliver was afraid he might be moving ahead a little too quickly for Harry, but was relieved and excited when Harry responded by moaning into his mouth. Oliver thought it was the most delicious thing he had ever felt.  
  
Harry thought he must be in Heaven. Whey else should something feel this good? He was sure he could stay like this forever, drawing sustenance from Oliver's mouth, his body. He moaned again as their hips gently rocked together.  
  
After long moments of pleasure found against each other, Oliver finally broke the kiss, their wet lips breathing harshly against each other. Harry whimpered at the loss. He felt Oliver's hot breath travel down his neck to his ear.  
  
"Hush, now. Patience, Harry."  
  
Oliver began a langorous exploration of Harry's body. Harry was placated by Oliver's mouth, hot on his neck, licking, sucking, gently biting the exposed flesh. He felt Oliver smoothly raise the hem of his shirt, felt the palm and warm fingertips caress his chest, arched his body in delight as Oliver's experienced fingers brushed over his already hard nipples. It was as if his body was an instrument and Oliver knew how to play. Harry gasped as Oliver placed his lips over one dusky pink nipple, bathing it with his tongue. Hands tangled in his hair urged Oliver to continue. He graciously complied, giving each tiny nub equal attention. Oliver thouroughly explored every exposed bit of Harry's bare torso, while Harry's hands alternately grasped and stroked every part of Oliver he could get to. By the time Oliver reached the waistband of Harry's faded jeans, the boy was simply writhing in the grass.  
  
Oliver knew well the power of anticipation. He maintained his liesurely pace, slowly slipping his tongue under the edge of the restricting fabric and sliding it around to Harry's hip bone. He deftly unfastened the pants and peeled them back, skimming his lips over each bit of pale flesh as it was exposed. His actions, while a bit slow paced, seemed even more drawn out to Harry, who was moaning quietly and trying his hardest not to thrust his pelvis into Oliver's face.  
  
The older Gryffindor, who normally had infinite patience in these matters, found that he was indeed very hungry for more of Harry, all of Harry. He finished unclothing the boy in a few swift moments, his mough watering as he got his first full view of Harry, unclothed but for the shirt pushed up around his armpits. Oliver paused to taste the soft skin inside Harry's knees, to gently flick his tongue along the pale, sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs.   
  
By the time his hot breath reached the point of Harry's arousal, the younger boy had become rock hard and was keening softly in frustration. Oliver glanced up to see that his head was thrown back and he was gently brushing his fingertips over his own nipples.  
  
"Please..." he begged in a raspy voice.  
  
Oliver finally gave in to temptation and slid his tongue up Harry's length. At the boy's gasp of pleasure, Oliver's restraint faded. He wanted to do so many things to Harry, to show him so much. *I figure this is as good a way as any to start,* he thought, and took Harry full into his mouth.  
  
Harry nearly cried at the sheer pleasure he found in Oliver's hot mouth. He knew he wouldn't last long, not after the prolonged teasing the older boy had provided. But Harry knew that it would be alright, that Oliver would understand. And when the moment arrived, Oliver did understand. He coaxed Harry with his lips and comforted Harry with his hands, understanding just what was needed. And in Harry's pleasure fogged mind, it was beautiful.  
  
Some moments later, as they lay close in the dying light, Harry heard Oliver speak softly.  
  
"Harry...I wish I could lay here now and whisper sweet words of promise in your ear, to...and...well, the thing is, I'm not sure when I'll be back, maybe not until next year, and I should have said this sooner, and..."  
  
"Ssshh..." Harry whispered, placing his fingers on Oliver's lips. "I know you would, but that's not what I'm asking you for. I understand that you'll be leaving, so I'll not be unrealistic about all of this. If the summer's all we've got then we'll make it as good as we can. It's already so much better than I ever expected."  
  
"Aye," whispered Oliver. "It's golden."  
  
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A/N Sorry if this wasn't as detailed as you'd like. I purposely left out a lot of description and emotion, as this is just a companion piece to a larger Harry/Draco fic I'm working on. I particularly like a Harry/Oliver pairing but I couldn't have the scenes in this story be better and more complete than the scenes in the larger story. It just wouldn't make sense! Anyhow, let me know what you thought - please review.  
  
Thank You for your lovely comments.  
  
DracoLurve 


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